Bodyguard
by captainbean
Summary: When Lucy's life is threatened, Wyatt takes it upon himself to be her personal bodyguard. Sparks fly. Post-season 1.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, this is just for fun.

 **Bodyguard**

"You know what? When you come to your senses, I'll be waiting downstairs! Come and find me when you're done!" Wyatt shouted in exasperation, throwing his hands in the air and storming out of the room. He tried to slam the door but the swing door dampened the effect somewhat.

"Wyatt!" Lucy shouted back frustratedly, stomping over and yanking the door open. She watched his retreating back, tense with annoyance. More to the point, tense with annoyance at _her_. " _Wyatt!_ " she tried again. "Ugh!" Lucy let out a huff of infuriation as he ignored her, stomping down the corridor and around the corner. Lucy turned on her heel and marched back into the boardroom they'd been bickering in, throwing herself into one of the many chairs surrounding an obnoxiously large table. She picked up the folder she had previously been examining and started flipping through it more violently than was probably strictly necessary. " _Fine_." She muttered to herself. "Fine. Be like that, you can go off and _sulk_ and I'll just-"

"Uhh… Lucy? Everything ok?" Jiya was stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised quizzically to find her friend angrily muttering to herself. "Word on the street is if you turn the pages delicately they're much easier to read. Just rumours though," she added with a small grin.

"Hey, Jiya," Lucy said tiredly, returning a warm smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little on edge with… everything. What's up?"

"I just need to you to sign these log-reports before you clock out for the night." Jiya replied, handing Lucy a few stapled together documents. "Your last mission, just check it's all there. Running for your life, adventure, intrigue, blah blah blah…" Jiya ticked them off on her fingers.

"Sounds about right," Lucy chuckled, scanning over the papers in concentration.

"Where's your personal G.I. Joe?" Jiya enquired, taking a seat next to Lucy.

"Probably securing the perimeter," Lucy muttered darkly, signing the first page of the report next to Rufus and Wyatt's respective signatures.

"Ahh." Jiya steepled her fingers, swiveling back and forth slightly in her wheelie chair and raising her eyebrows. "I heard you guys yelling before."

Lucy looked up. "Oh God, did you? Did anyone else?"

"No…" Jiya tried to say casually, avoiding Lucy's eye. "Just, like, half the building probably."

"Great," Lucy rolled her eyes, returning to the next page of reports.

"You get it though, right? Why he's being so over-protective?" Jiya asked gently.

Lucy looked up at her friend, pen still clutched in her hand mid-signature. "I know Flynn kidnapped me before, but that was in the past." She paused. "The _literal_ past. What's Emma going to do to me in the present? I'm not a threat to her in the here and now."

"She's having you tailed, Lucy. You _and_ Rufus and Wyatt. And we don't know why. They haven't made a play for you guys yet, but it's only a matter of time. Mason's got guys watching Rufus – which let me tell you, totally kills the romance on date night," Jiya rolled her eyes. "But if you won't let Mason's gorillas keep an eye on you, then Wyatt sure as hell isn't going to let you out of his sight. He's worried about you."

Lucy sighed. "I know. But I'm a big girl, I don't need a babysitter."

"Not even a six foot hunk of babysitter with killer baby blues?" Jiya teased, a wicked smirk on her face. Lucy dead-eyed her. "Oh please, don't tell me you haven't noticed. You'd have to be blind not to. Don't tell Rufus I said that." She added hastily.

Of course Lucy _had_ noticed, but that was a grey area. A maybe-we-should-consider-the-possibilities-but-shit-is-hitting-the-fan-and-the-Mothership-has-been-stolen-by-a-crazy-Rittenhouse-pyscho-so-let's-just-exchange-lingering-glances-and-not-talk-about-our-feelings-right-now grey area.

"Anyway, and there's the whole wife thing as well," Jiya continued when Lucy didn't reply.

"What?" Lucy's eyes snapped up to Jiya.

"You should have seen Wyatt when Flynn took you before. He was going out of his mind. Rufus said it was like reliving Jessica disappearing… I don't think he wants to go through anything like that ever again." Jiya shrugged with finality.

Lucy put the pen down. "I didn't think of that." She closed her eyes and held her fingers to her temples. "Well now I feel awful."

"If someone's planning to hijack you, and you won't let Mason's goons lurk in the shadows, then Wyatt's going to stick to you like glue. I don't think you get a choice." Jiya said gently.

Lucy sighed, and slid the completed reports across to Jiya, who scooped them up and held them to her chest. "I guess I should go and find him. Did you see where he stormed off to?" Lucy asked.

"He's downstairs, brooding." Jiya smirked, standing and making her way over to the door. "Hey. He's just acting mad because he's worried about you. And a little bit crazy about you, but we can talk about that when our lives aren't in total mortal peril." Jiya winked, exiting the room before Lucy had a chance to form a defensive comeback, simply sitting there with her mouth hanging slightly open.

Pulling herself together, Lucy checked her watch and got to her feet. She grabbed her bag, squared her shoulders and let out a short sigh of determination.

* * *

She found him sitting downstairs, arms folded and staring determinedly at the wall. His brow was furrowed and he was pouting slightly. Brooding was right.

Lucy let out a small sigh of resignation as she paused in the door. His eyes flicked up to hers, but she sensed he wasn't going to be the one to initiate conversation after their earlier blow-out. She folded her arms and leaned against the door frame. "Hey," she tried with a tight-lipped smile.

"Hey," he returned with the tiniest hint of embarrassment. Arms still folded, still slightly pouting.

"I guess this is the part where _I_ say I'm sorry for getting mad at you for just trying to look out for me-" she began, avoiding his eyes and slowly strolling over to the seat next to him, lowering herself onto the edge. His eyes followed her, softening slightly as she approached him. A little less hostile now. "-and then _you_ say 'I'm sorry I followed you to the bathroom and waited outside because that's clearly an overreaction as Rittenhouse isn't coming after us in a bathroom stall'," At this, she pointedly looked him in the eye.

He opened his mouth to protest but stopped short, looking away and then back at her again. He shut his mouth and exhaled through his nose, having the decency to look suitably sheepish. "Well when you put it like _that_ …" He gave a small shrug and looked back at her. "I was just… concerned." He said quietly. "When Flynn took you it was… it _sucked_. Ok? It was awful. And now Emma apparently has plans for you and she's even more of a whack-job. If you won't let anyone help-"

"Wyatt." She stopped him with a touch to his arm. He was scrambling to explain himself, to explain his concern and in truth she found it quite sweet (and more than a little bit cute). "It's ok. I understand. But Emma and Rittenhouse are watching you and Rufus too. What about you guys?"

"Mason's cronies creep me out a little. They wear sunglasses at _night_. That's just weird." Wyatt said with disdain. "Rufus doesn't mind, he says they make him feel important." He scoffed. "I don't like them following me around though. And honestly, what are they gonna do?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Hey, if you've managed to slip past them then why am I getting the third degree about surveillance and safety?" Lucy queried, smacking his shoulder.

"Because I'm a U.S Army Master Sergeant who knows how to use and gun, and you're a historian who uses lamps as a weapon and falls out of ground floor windows?" Wyatt threw back at her sarcastically.

"I'm also a Professor if we're throwing titles around, but whatever," Lucy muttered to herself as Wyatt rolled his eyes.

"Look," Wyatt started again, not wanting to fight about this. "You can have those guys parked up outside your building and following you on every coffee run, or you can put up with me instead." He paused for a beat, leaning in slightly and looking seriously into her eyes. "I promised to protect you, Lucy. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Don't you want to protect Rufus?" she asked conspiratorially, with a small smile.

Wyatt leaned back again, pretending to seriously consider the pros and cons. "It's a tough call. Jiya says he snores, so I think I'll leave it to the suit droids," He gave her a half smile, making one of his cheeks dimple.

"Ah, there you are Lucy!" Mason boomed, tailing back as he almost walked past the door. "Glad I've caught you, I- sorry, am I interrupting anything?" Mason had walked in on Lucy and Wyatt smiling fondly at each other. Lucy's head snapped away from Wyatt to Mason, whilst Wyatt was looking in the opposite direction and awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

"Hi," Lucy said brightly, breezing over the moment. "Everything ok?"

"Yes, quite! I just wanted to check in and see if you wanted Tony to escort you home this evening?" Mason enquired, pulling a phone out of his breast pocket, poised to make a call.

"Tony?" Lucy replied, frowning in confusion.

"One of the chaps I hired when all of this Emma business came to light. Tall gentleman, has the physique of The Rock, if I'm not mistaken." Mason clarified. "I can have him here in a jiffy, just say the word. I'd really feel much better if you'd take me up on these security measures. Both of you," He added, for Wyatt's benefit.

"Actually, that's ok," Lucy replied, side-glancing to Wyatt. "I'm sure, uh, _Tony_ , is great and all, but Wyatt is going to take this shift."

Wyatt looked over at her and smiled in relief. "Really?"

"Really," Lucy sighed in mock-defeat. "If I'm going to be chaperoned by someone then it might as well be by someone I can actually have a conversation with. No offence to your guys," she added to Mason.

"Oh, none taken. The most I get from them is 'affirmative' or some vague grunting. Although I believe one of them has bonded with Rufus over Spiderman. Anyway," Mason continued, shaking his head, "Wyatt, whenever you leave Lucy's apartment just call, and I'll send the chaps over to keep watch on the building for the night. Until then, I'll say goodnight!" He excited the room as they exchanged goodbyes.

When he was gone, Lucy turned to Wyatt. "So... Home?"

He gave her a disarming half-smile. "Sure thing, ma'am."

* * *

After her mom had turned out to be in-deep with Rittenhouse, Lucy had understandably moved out. She'd moved to an apartment building at least 30 blocks away to try and put some distance between them, not feeling at all ready to forgive her mom for her involvement in a society that was, in Rufus' words, 'batshit crazy'. It was a nice building, on a tree-lined street with a doorman. Lucy felt comfortable there, if not totally settled in yet.

When they arrived home, Lucy collapsed into an armchair and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips, whilst Wyatt strolled into Lucy's kitchen and flipped on the light. He knew his way around pretty well since he, Rufus and Jiya had helped Lucy move. The word 'help' being generous in Rufus' case, since Wyatt and Jiya had been the ones doing most of the heavy lifting.

He pulled open the fridge and found pretty much what he'd expected: beer, wine, a sparse assortment of vegetables (not all within their use-by date), a hunk of cheese and some rogue jars. He grabbed a beer, the bottle of wine, and a glass from the cupboard above the counter next to him. Wyatt wandered back into the lounge, taking a swig of his now opened beer and silently holding out the half full glass to Lucy.

She gratefully accepted it with a smile as he took a seat on the couch. "You know you haven't got any real food, right?" Wyatt queried.

"I have a take-out menu drawer," Lucy countered, taking a sip of her wine and holding his gaze.

He sighed good-naturedly. "Come on," He hauled himself off the couch and returned to the kitchen. Lucy waited for a beat, listening to him opening drawers and cupboards, before leaning over the edge of her armchair, trying to work out what he was up to. He returned to the kitchen doorway, eyebrows raised expectantly and jerked his head towards the room behind him, motioning for her to join him before disappearing from view again.

Lucy walked into the kitchen to find it busier than it had ever been in the short space of time she'd lived there. The kitchen was more a decorative room for Lucy as she wasn't particularly blessed with culinary skills, but she was slightly mesmerized as she took in the sight of Wyatt before her, filling pans with things she didn't even know she was in possession of.

"What are you doing?" she enquired, taking a lid off a pot that was starting to simmer on the stove.

Wyatt removed he lid from her hand, placing it back on the pot. "There's no point in protecting you from an unbalanced Rittenhouse psycho with a vendetta against you if you starve to death, is there?" he smirked at her, playfulness in his eyes.

Lucy took a seat at her kitchen island, setting herself up in a spot next to where Wyatt was chopping some tomatoes that were miraculously still in-date.

"I didn't know you could cook," she commented with genuine surprise.

"Uh, yeah," Wyatt replied, his eyes flicking from her to the tomatoes. He seemed a little embarrassed, like when Lucy had learned he was in possession of an impressive roster of languages. "I find it pretty relaxing."

Well, that was adorable. Lucy was having a hard time trying to stay indifferent towards Wyatt since they had both seemingly unspeakably agreed to shelve their 'maybe-we-should-consider-the-possibilities' talk until this Emma situation had blown over. As if she wasn't resentful towards her enough for stealing the Mothership, being in bed with Rittenhouse and putting the restoration of Amy to the timeline on the backburner yet again, this whole thing had come as a massive wedge between Lucy and Wyatt talking about Them, The Future and The Possibilities. It had become something of an elephant in the room; they knew _something_ was there, but whilst they had to focus on this new fiasco, they were trying to remain professional, friendly and platonic. Which was becoming increasingly difficult when Wyatt was such a gentleman all the time… buckling her seatbelt in the Lifeboat, his eyes and hands always searching for hers when they were in danger, insisting on protecting her at all costs. Cooking dinner for her in her own kitchen.

Lucy took another sip of her wine, and smiled as she watched him potter about her kitchen. He _did_ seem more relaxed than usual. It was completely endearing. _Damnit._ "What are you making?"

"Well, there's not much to choose from since you live like one of your undergrad students-" Lucy rolled her eyes at him, "-but you've got pasta, and I'm pretty sure I can throw some kind of sauce together… what?" he tailed off when he looked up to find her looking at him particularly fondly, the bottle of beer paused halfway to his lips.

"Nothing," Lucy said quickly, trying to wipe the smile from her face. She looked away and then back at him again, trying to be casual. She shrugged, "I just… I can't remember the last time anyone made me dinner."

"Seriously?" Wyatt asked incredulously.

Lucy shrugged again. "Seriously. So this is pretty great." She paused. "Thank you, Wyatt. For… everything."

"Well." He said quietly, looking her in the eye. He knew she was saying thank you for more than dinner. It was a loaded thank you. Thank you for always being there, for insisting on watching out for her, thank you for always coming through. "You are welcome." He said, delicately pronouncing each word.

"Just don't expect me to return the favour... unless you want to survive off take-out," she returned playfully, banishing the sudden weight of their prior conversation.

"As if I'd eat anything you cooked for me. Do I look like an idiot?" He asked, taking a sip of beer and trying not to choke on it as he laughed when she leaned over to swat him on the arm.

The rest of the evening went on with them joking and drinking and talking about everything and nothing. They ate dinner and Lucy commented she'd actually consider properly going grocery shopping if it meant Wyatt could concoct an even better meal with a whole range of ingredients. She suggested he could teach her how to cook, and he retaliated he didn't have the patience ( _"Stick to history, Lucy. I'd probably miss you if I shot you because you couldn't master chopping an onion."_ ). They retired to the couch and Wyatt discovered Lucy had an obsession with old movies, and insisted they watch some of them ( _she_ insisted on explaining the historical relevance and/or inaccuracies of each one, which Wyatt found both annoying and charming).

It was past midnight when Wyatt noticed Lucy's eyes were closed. "Hey," he said gently. Her head had been resting on his shoulder. "I should get going. You're asleep."

"I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes." Lucy protested groggily.

Wyatt smiled down at her. "Sure you are. I'll call Mason so his boys can set up camp outside for the night."

Lucy opened her eyes, frowning slightly, trying to shake herself out of her sleepy fog. She sat up and looked at him. "It's late," she stated.

"…yeah?" Wyatt said as if she were stating the obvious, not sure where she was going with this line of thought.

"I'm not the only one Emma's after," Lucy shot back. "It's late, it's dark, and you're not going to let Tony follow you home. This would be a perfect time to Emma to go after you!"

A look of confusion passed over Wyatt's face. "Who the hell is Tony?"

"Seriously, that's what you're taking from this?" Lucy dead-panned.

"Lucy, I'll be fine. If I can handle McCarthy's guys, I can handle whatever Emma can throw at us. I think I can drive myself a few miles home." He reached out to touch her arm to reassure her.

"Sure you can," Lucy said, with a hint of sarcasm. "Tomorrow morning. In daylight."

"Lucy-"

"This works both ways. Just because you're better with a gun doesn't mean I'm not going to look out for you either." She said with a note of finality, glaring at him.

He sighed, relenting. "Ok, ok, you win. I'll stay." He said, holding his hands up. He half-smiled at her. "You should get some sleep," He jerked her head back towards her bedroom. "You know, since you weren't asleep before and all."

She smiled back at him and then stopped to consider the implications of what insisting Wyatt stay meant. "I don't have a second bedroom," she said with slight dismay.

"That's ok. Your couch is pretty comfy. Believe me, the army has dropped me in worse places." He said gallantly.

Lucy paused, eyeing up her couch. It was a two-seater, and Wyatt was around six foot. She looked from the couch, to him waiting for her to reply. She made up her mind. "Don't be ridiculous. I can't insist you stay and then make you sleep on a couch half your size." She laughed a little nervously and stood. "Come on." She said, with a lot more confidence than she felt. Her next words were tinged with sarcasm, masking her nervousness. "We can pretend it's 1934. My bed is a little bigger than that one, at least."

She saw his Adam's apple bob as he looked up at her, suddenly a little nervous himself. "Uh, ok. Are you sure?"

To be totally honest, she wasn't sure. But she knew Wyatt Logan was pretty much the most chivalrous man she'd ever met, and let's-consider-the-possibilities feelings aside, she really couldn't make him sleep on the tiny couch. "Yes," she softened. "You won't get any sleep on this thing, and I won't get any sleep if I feel guilty about forcing you to stay. And you're a gentleman, right?" she tried again for some sarcasm to diffuse any awkwardness.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied, eyebrows raising to the affirmative, still a little anxious, but a small smile on his face nonetheless.

"Ok." She nodded her head in one swift motion, convincing herself this was fine. This was a friend, helping out another friend, letting them crash for comfortableness. They were going to go to sleep, and wake up, and that was that. She was _not_ going to think about The Possibilities, or the way Wyatt had let her rest her arm on top of his the last time they'd shared a bed together, or how he had looked over at her searchingly before they'd been jolted back to reality by Clyde's snoring… _Pull yourself together Lucy_ _._ "Ok." She said again firmly, turning on her heel and leading the way to her bedroom.

He rose slowly, following her cautiously and stood leaning against the doorframe of her room. Lucy was busying herself with piling books that were strewn around into neater stacks and kicking a rogue pair of shoes under her bed. She looked up when she noticed him stood in the doorway. "I'm just going to…" she pointed in the direction of her bathroom and grabbed some pyjamas. "I'll be right back. Make yourself at home."

Lucy got ready for bed, then instructed Wyatt where she kept spare toothbrushes upon her return. She got under the covers and instinctively reached for the book on her bedside table to ease her nerves. This particular tome concerned the rise and fall of the Russian Empire, a breeze at just over 1000 pages. Reading always soothed Lucy no matter what situation she was in. Too bad she couldn't stash a library in the Lifeboat.

"Some light bedtime reading?" Wyatt commented, nodding towards the hefty volume propped up on her knees.

"Ha ha." She said sarcastically, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. He was stood on the other side of the bed, and she couldn't help but notice he'd begun to undo the buttons of his blue checked shirt. Her eyes slid down to his fingers undoing one button after another and her mouth dropped open slightly. Her eyes flicked back to her book before he could notice her staring, though she could see him remove his shirt and place it on a chair out of the corner of her eye. She told herself her thudding heart had absolutely nothing to do with this... She knew she was lying to herself when he removed his jeans and slid under the covers as casually as he could while she pointedly avoided eye-contact with him. He'd kept his white undershirt on (ever the gentleman) so she didn't have a complete meltdown.

As she turned out the light and lay down next to him, she had a sense of 1934 déjà vu. Granted, this bed was bigger, but they were still side-by-side, in semi states of undress, both feeling a little bit nervous even though all they were supposed to do was sleep. Hell, this should be a breeze compared to sharing a cabin with infamous criminals, but this seemed even more nerve-wracking. _No distractions_ , a tiny voice whispered in Lucy's head (…a voice that sounded remarkably like Jiya).

Wyatt lay on his back in the dark, one arm propped behind his head. Lucy suspected he wasn't asleep as his breathing didn't seem deep enough. She turned on her side and looked at him for a few moments, considering his silhouette in the dark; the curve of his lips, the pronounced muscles in his arms, the rise and fall of his chest.

"Y'know, it's rude to watch people sleep," Wyatt commented, turning his face towards her. She noticed a half-smirk on his face as her eyes were adjusting to the darkness. She was thankful that it was still dark enough to conceal the slight blush creeping up her neck at being caught out.

"Pfft, don't flatter yourself," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'm just getting comfortable, that's all. You just happen to be in the direction I'm facing."

"Ahh," he replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She'd closed her eyes to make it look as though she was attempting to sleep, but opened them again now to find him looking at her with affection in his eyes. She held his gaze for a beat. "Hey," he began again, his playfulness fading. "Thanks… for making me stay. It's been a while since anyone's been worried about me." His free hand found hers under the covers, and he held it lightly.

Lucy smiled back at him, sleep starting to tug on her senses. "As if I was going to let you walk out into the night when a crazed murderer is after us." She yawned.

Wyatt chuckled. "Right, because we never do _anything_ dangerous."

Lucy prodded him with her foot. "You're always looking out for me. Let me look out for you." Her eyes were shut now, drowsiness beginning to win out.

"I'm trying." He replied quietly, and she strongly suspected he was the one watching her now. She tried to open her eyes to confirm her theories, but ended up blinking heavily, unable to keep them open.

"Go to sleep, Lucy." Wyatt whispered, reaching over and smoothing her hair out of her face. The motion had forced his body closer to hers.

They fell asleep still holding hands.

* * *

Lucy awoke a few hours later to the sound of someone knocking quietly on her apartment door, the noise insistently pulling her into consciousness.

As she became more awake she realised that sometime during the night she had Wyatt had unconsciously become tangled together. She was spooned against him, his strong arm wrapped tightly around her waist, his hand still holding hers. His forehead was pressed to the back of her shoulder, and he was breathing deeply, still immersed in sleep.

" _Wyatt!_ " Lucy hissed over her shoulder. His over-protectiveness from the day before had clearly rubbed off on her and manifested itself into paranoid thoughts, making her wonder just who was on the other side of the door. "Wyatt!"

"Hhungh…" Wyatt groaned with tiredness, pushing his forehead further down her shoulder. She could feel him screwing up his eyes, trying to resist waking up. Another time, she'd have delighted in feeling his eyelashes tickling her bare skin as he blinked back into consciousness, but the knocking was becoming louder and Lucy was starting to become worried. "What time is it?" Wyatt asked groggily.

"It's just after six," Lucy replied, holding his own arm aloft the get a look at his watch. She turned around in his arms just in time to see him becoming fully aware of their close proximity.

"Uh, Lucy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" he began clumsily, his hand jerking away from her waist, but being unable to find a non-awkward place to land, tentatively put it back again.

"There's someone at the door." She said pointedly, and he could see the concern in her eyes.

"Don't you have a doorman?" Wyatt asked suspiciously. Lucy gave a small nod. He dived out bed, quickly threw on his jeans and grabbed his gun from the nightstand.

Lucy scrambled out of bed and followed him as he crept towards her front door. "Stay in there," he instructed her in hushed tones, throwing his arm in the direction of her bedroom.

"Do you really think an armed assassin would knock?" she wondered aloud in a whisper. The more awake she was becoming, the more she thought she may be overreacting. Her doorman was probably on a smoke-break, and had left his post unattended, allowing her mystery visitor to wander up to her apartment. The knocking began again and she instinctively grabbed a lamp from the bookcase next to her.

Wyatt did a double-take back to her, his gun still pointed in the direction of the front door. "Seriously? What is it with you and lamps?" he hissed.

She rolled her eyes, replacing the lamp, and crept forward a few inches. The knocking stopped; Wyatt slowly undid the chain lock on the door and was about to throw it open when a familiar voice rang out.

"Lucy? Are you in there?"

Wyatt turned to Lucy, gun still aloft. Her mouth dropped slightly in recognition.

"It's Noah," she whispered, as he lowered his gun an inch.

"What's he doing here at six in the morning? I thought you broke up with him?" Wyatt asked in confusion. Lucy shrugged slightly, feeling pretty confused herself, and stepped forward to open the door as Wyatt hastily stashed his gun behind him.

"Hi," Noah greeted her, practically beaming when she finally opened the door. "It's so good to see you. I'm sorry to stop by so early, but I have an early shift at the hospital so thought I'd check in on the way and-" He caught sight of a half-dressed and sleep-tousled Wyatt stood not far behind Lucy. "Uhh… hello. Lucy, what's your… work-friend doing here?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

"Uh, hey," Wyatt took a step forward, unfolding his arms, an offering a small wave with a tight-lipped smile. Well, this was awkward. Noah's mind was clearly jumping to conclusions as his eyes practically bugged out of his skull, flicking at light-speed between Lucy and Wyatt.

"Um… what are you doing here, Noah? It's a little early for a house call." Lucy enquired confusedly.

"Could we have a little privacy?" Noah asked, looking rather pointedly at Wyatt.

Wyatt glanced at Lucy, seeing the flash of panic in her eyes at being left alone with her former-fiancé, and set his jaw. "You know what? I think I'll stay," he said, taking a fraction of a step closer to Lucy.

Annoyance flashed in Noah's eyes, as he let out a small exhale of frustration, turning his attention back to Lucy. Lucy turned back to Noah, eyebrows raised. "So…?"

He placed a box he'd been carrying on the floor by the door where he stood, but he was avoiding her eyes. A few awkward seconds passed before he could finally look at her. "I brought back a box of your things. I've got an early shift at the hospital and thought… well, I just thought I'd drop them off on the way. Your mom gave me your new address…"

 _Great_ , Lucy thought. _Rittenhouse knows where I live. Of course_. She wasn't exactly on speaking terms with her mom right now, but of course it made sense that they had been keeping tabs on her. As had Noah, apparently.

"I was hoping we could talk but obviously… your _colleague_ is here…"

"Noah-"

"Really, Lucy?" He asked angrily, hands on hips. His patience had finally crumbled. "This guy? I _asked_ you when you ended things if it was because of him, and you said it wasn't. Were you lying to me?"

"Woah there-!" Wyatt interjected, unable to keep quiet, and taking a step forward towards Noah. Lucy stopped him, stepping in front of him to block his way to Noah. She looked up at him imploringly, eyebrows raised. He respected her enough to trust her to hold her own, so held his tongue and retreated a step.

Lucy was very aware that Wyatt was within listening range. "Look, Noah. You wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth. I can't explain."

"What, because of your big, secret, non-disclosure project? I'm supposed to believe that this is a work-related sleepover?" Noah shot back defiantly. When Lucy didn't reply immediately, he continued, "I'm supposed to believe that you're not _crazy_ about him, when you've never looked at me the way you look at him? That that's not the real reason why you decided _not_ to marry me?"

"Um…" Lucy opened her mouth, trying to form an answer, but found herself scrambling for a reply that wouldn't form. "Yeah, actually." She shrugged weakly. How was she supposed to tell him truthfully that she broke things off because they'd never truly been engaged? That he was in love with an alternate version of herself, a version that didn't exist? ' _Oh, by the way, my secret job is that I travel in time to chase after bad people who are intent on controlling the planet, and sometimes we accidently mess up the timeline so – surprise! I'm not actually the woman you popped the question to. Sorry!'_ Yeah. That'd happen. "I'm sorry." She said firmly, looking him in the eye, trying to convey how much she meant it. Because she _was_ sorry… just not for the reasons Noah obviously thought.

"Unbelievable." Noah said quietly, hanging his head with a warmth-less smile. "I thought maybe we could talk things over, work things out. Your mom told me to just give it some time. But I guess not."

Lucy sighed. "You deserve to be with someone who can give everything to you. That's just not me." She took a step forward. "Before, when I said it wasn't because of Wyatt, it wasn't…" (She ignored the niggling Jiya-voice in her head telling her ' _well, not totally'_ ). She tailed off, not quite knowing where to go next. She shrugged weakly.

Noah's eyes flitted from Lucy to Wyatt and back again. He sighed. "I guess I didn't really want to accept that it was over. But I guess that answers my question." He took a step backwards. "Take care of her." He said coldly to Wyatt, and slammed the door before either of them could respond.

Wyatt let out a low whistle. "Are you _sure_ you broke up with him the first time round?"

"I thought so," Lucy said quietly, a little shaken. "He didn't seem so upset before. I guess he's been thinking about it." She looked at her feet, consumed with guilt.

Wyatt took a step forward, trying to catch her eye. He tilted her chin up, seeing her eyes beginning to prick with tears. "Hey," he said gently, looking at her firmly. "You did the right thing. You know that. Waiting out an engagement that's not real was insane, it was kinder to cut him loose. Ok? He's mad because he doesn't see the whole picture."

Lucy swiped away a tear that was threatening to fall and smiled up at him. "I know. It just sucks breaking up… even if it's not real." She added with a small laugh.

"Come here," he said, pulling her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around him, and fitted her cheek into the crook of his neck. "So he doesn't like me, huh?" He asked, and she could tell he was smiling.

"Uhh, no, not really…" she began awkwardly. She pulled away slightly, taking a step back and looked down at her bare feet, rocking back on her heels.

"How exactly did I come up in your break-up conversation?" He asked, and when Lucy looked up, his eyes were full of glee. He apparently found this wildly entertaining.

Lucy rolled her own eyes at him. "He thought… he thought I was breaking up with him because of you, ok? You, and my super-secret job, and… you know, Rufus had been shot and there were a lot of emotions flying and I guess we were being pretty… _intense_ given the situation…" Lucy was babbling, and she knew it, but she figured if she just kept talking she could ride out this wave of mortification. "And you know, I wasn't just _breaking up_ with him, he thought I was calling off a _wedding_ and-" Lucy stopped when she noticed Wyatt was grinning at her. "Oh, shut up." She rolled her eyes again, this time with a small smile on her lips.

He let out a small chuckle, looking down at his feet and then back up into her eyes. "I'm sorry. I guess I can't blame the guy… I'd probably be pretty pissed off too if I was hoping to rekindle the old flame and found you with some other guy."

"You're not some other guy," she chastised him. There weren't words to describe what Wyatt had come to mean to her – romantically, platonically or otherwise. All of the above. "You're… _Wyatt_." She settled on.

He smiled, his eyes searching hers, coming to some kind of mental decision. He gave a small determined sigh, standing up a little straighter. He took a step closer to her and she looked up at him expectantly. "Lucy…" he began slowly, "I know we haven't really talked about… the _possibilities…_ since that day when your mom blew the lid on Rittenhouse and Emma took off with the Mothership, but this whole time travel thing is really hitting home that life's too short, you know?" He scratched the back of his neck, looking away and then looking back at her again. "Do you think… I mean, I know you just called time with Noah, so it's totally fine if you say no, but… I was just thinking, _maybe_ , we could... try _not_ being colleagues sometime?" Lucy was trying to contain a grin now, eyebrows raised and still looking at him in anticipation. When she appeared to be silently prompting him, he sighed. "Are you really going to make me say it?"

She laughed. "Yeah," she nodded, as if she didn't know what he was talking about. "Yeah, I think I am."

He hung his head in good humoured exasperation and then looked back up at her. "Lucy. Would you like to go out sometime?"

"Like on a date?" she asked coyly.

"Like on a date." He clarified, as if he were talking to someone particularly slow. When she chuckled, he replied with a nervous smile, "Hey, give me a break, ok? It's been a while since I asked anyone out. I'm a little rusty."

"I'm sorry." She beamed up at him, taking a step closer. "I'd really like to try… not being colleagues."

"Well, alright then." He grinned down at her, closing the gap between them another inch. "…ma'am." He added playfully.

She took another step closer to him, with now barely an inch between them, and leaned in slightly, whispering, "If you keep calling me 'ma'am', I'm not going,"

"I'll take my chances," he replied quietly, and by now she could feel his breath on her lips. They were both smiling ridiculous smiles, when their lips finally met. Softly at first, not as insistent or as intense as that first kiss for show back in 1934, but soon deepening as Lucy's hands worked their way up Wyatt's strong arms and laced themselves around his neck. One of his hands cupped the side of her face whilst the other found her waist, pulling her closer against his body. Months' worth of adrenaline, life-or-death intensity, stolen glances and grazed hands found their way into this kiss, as they finally gave in to longing and curiosity, becoming more urgent as his tongue met hers and they melted into one another. Wyatt had begun pressing kisses to Lucy's jawline when both of their phones began to trill.

Wyatt groaned in frustration, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead to Lucy's. "Great timing," he commented sarcastically.

"What are the odds that something bad happened?" Lucy sighed, trying to catch her breath. "I guess we should probably get that."

"I guess," Wyatt grumbled pressing one last kiss to her jawline and another to her lips. They smiled at one another, and then laughed, unable to contain their mirth at finally letting go.

"Hello?" Lucy answered when she retrieved her phone from her bedroom. "Yeah. We'll be right there. Ok. Bye."

She looked over at Wyatt checking his watch and having a similar conversation, before hanging up his own phone. "Duty calls," he sighed.

* * *

When they both arrived at Mason Industries a little while later, the building was a flurry of activity. Emma had unexpectedly jumped back to 1692: Salem, Massachusetts. She was pushing the boundaries, going back further and further.

When they arrived at the Wardrobe dock after being briefed, Jiya was there waiting for them, flipping through a document of handy hints and tips she'd prepared… namely how to avoid being accused of witchcraft and hung from a tree/and or drowned.

"If anyone offers you any weird looking bread, do _not_ eat it. It could make you really sick and act kind of crazy…" Jiya rattled off from her list. "Ooh, and do _not_ pet any cats. Or any weird animals. In fact, avoid _all_ animals!"

"What if we run into anyone named Samantha, she's a good witch, right?" Wyatt enquired, accepting a pile of clothes from the wardrobe guy.

"This isn't _Bewitched_! This is serious!" Jiya chastised him firmly. She opened her mouth to say more, but stopped, looking him up and down curiously.

"What?" Wyatt asked, looking down at himself and then back at Jiya.

"Nothing. Weren't you wearing those clothes yesterday?" she frowned, one hand on her hip.

"Um-" Wyatt looked back down at his shirt, scrambling for an answer. "Well-"

Jiya narrowed her eyes at him, a smirk forming on her face. "Did you stay at Lucy's last night, Master Sergeant?"

Wyatt looked away, rocking back on his heels, and then defiantly back at Jiya. "I'm not going to dignify that with an answer, because it's none of your business."

"That means yes," Rufus said gleefully, joining the conversation as he walked up to them, a wicked grin on his face. "You sly dog." He added, throwing Wyatt's own words from their 1930s escapade back at him.

"What are we talking about?" Lucy enquired, wandering down the aisle with her own pile of clothes to change into in her arms.

" _Nothing_." Wyatt said firmly, eyebrows raised meaningfully.

"Sure. _'Nothing'_." Jiya said patronisingly, using air-quotes for emphasis. She and Rufus walked away chuckling to themselves, and fist-bumping before they rounded the corner.

"What was all that about?" Lucy asked, watching their friends disappear from view and then looking back to Wyatt confusedly.

"Just some friendly work-place banter." Wyatt replied darkly, laughingly glaring after their friends.

Lucy was quiet for a moment, and then the penny dropped. "Do they know?"

"Yep," Wyatt replied, turning to look at her. "Apparently we're not as subtle as we think."

Lucy laughed, shaking her head. "Well, this should be fun."

Wyatt winked at her, grinning. "I'm counting on it… ma'am."

 **\- FIN -**

(a/n) So apparently when I write _Timeless_ I have beef with Noah. I think because Lucy's mom likes him so much and we know she's Rittenhouse, I don't trust him… hmm. Apologies for any typos or inaccuracies. In my original draft I wasn't going to have Lucy and Wyatt kiss, but it turned out a lot longer than I planned so I felt I couldn't _not_ have them kiss… what do you think, is anticipation better? Any reviews would be greatly received. I hope you enjoyed :)


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